


She Always Starts with a Smile

by CannibalKats



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Waitress Jaehee, diner au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-01-31 14:16:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12683577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalKats/pseuds/CannibalKats
Summary: Jaehee is an orphan, sick of listening to her Uncle fight with his wife about how much she was costing them she'd moved out as a teenager, gotten a job at a diner.  That's where she met Saeyoung Choi for the first time.    Maybe they've bonded over shared misfortune but she'd never call him a friend.  Wouldn't really call anyone a friend.So why, when Saeyoung finds himself in a bit of trouble, is it her he goes to for help?





	1. 1: Easier Than A Handshake

Her smile is fake.

Practiced and pleasant and believable.  A smile that says  _ I’m ok, we’re all ok _ , while she calls you sweetie or darling or whatever pet name she knows will earn her that tip. A practiced smile that assuaged the guilt her Uncle felt when she said  _ No, I’ll be ok on my own _ . They don’t know she dropped out of school.

She does well.  As well as you can do as a waitress. She’s been here longer than anyone else can remember.  Works seven days a week because she’s got a heart of gold.  That’s what the cooks say.  A heart of gold maybe, but a wallet full of holes.  She’s worked here since high school.  Not as long ago as anyone thinks it was. 

She had a scholarship once, aspirations, but then one day her grades had slipped, and Jaehee Kang had realized she could rely on herself.  She could survive.  She didn’t need anyone.  16 years old when her mother died, leaving her an orphan in the care of family.  Family she pretended she didn’t hear arguing about how much she was costing them. 

She wasn’t anyone’s burden.

She works the late shift, sometimes the all day shift. 

“You were here this morning weren’t you, Jaehee?” Blue hair, blue eyes, smiling face. 

A regular and she pretends like she knows his name, smiles her sweet smile, “So were you Honey, looks like it’s been a long day for both of us.”

The bell above the door jingle jangles right on cue and Jaehee waves her pad in the air. 

Jaehee’s been here a long time and he’d been here almost as long.  No one needs to ask the red hair in the corner what he wants, it’s always the same.

She leaves the bill with Blue hair and his sour friend.

He’s been coming here as long as she’s worked here.   There used to be two of them.  Dirty round the edges, red haired boys with handfuls of loose change they’d drop on the table with a blush and order a milkshake to split between them.  

Jaehee never counted the change.  Whenever she could swing it she’d give them two.  _ You know I counted again before I put your order in and wouldn’t you know it? _  Sometimes she’d call in an order in wrong,  _ table five wanted onion rings not fries, you boys hungry _ ?

She was a 16 year old orphan and they were 12 years old with a junkie for a Mom if the rumors were true.  They kept coming in, the bigger one starts to have money to pay for their food, the smaller one colours his hair, pierces his lips.  Rests bloody knuckles on the table more often than not.   _ The Choi boys are trouble _ , she’d heard one of the older ladies whisper to a new waitress one day.

And then there was one.

Every night she works, which is every night these day.  Saeyoung Choi comes in 45 minutes before they close.  He takes the corner booth with the view of the sky over the river, he orders a PhD Pepper and Waffles off the kids menu, he eats them while he counts a pile of cash, and then he leaves before they lock the door.

Saeyoung Choi waits every night under the street lamp in front of the diner and offers to drive her home.  Every night she declines and lets him walk her to her bus stop, and wait with her for the bus in comfortable silence.  There’s nothing predatory about their ritual, no fake nice guy waiting to cash in his decent dude points for pity sex.  It’s something else.  An unspoken thank you for all the times she’d taken care of them before their mother died.

“Hey Jaehee,” the cook whispers as she fills a glass with PhD Pepper.

“Hmm?” She should probably remember his name, swears she will but knows the second she does he’ll move on, they always do.

“Where do you think he gets that money?”

“Don’t care,” she shrugs.

“I heard he sells drugs.”

She turns, the practiced smile dropping with her back to the customers. “He doesn’t,” she says, voice low, defensive almost.

The cook shrugs his shoulders, a slow rise and fall like mountains shifting. “His brother’s in jail, heard he killed a guy.”

Jaehee sighs.  She remembers when Saeran Choi had stopped coming in and Saeyoung Choi had started waiting for her outside after her shift. “He’s not a bad kid,” the taller twin had said quietly.  She hadn’t asked, hadn’t said anything.  It wasn’t her business and she didn’t know them. “He just made some bad friends and he’s too fucking loyal.”

It had been a few weeks later, or maybe a month when they’d been waiting quietly at her bus stop and Saeyoung had softly said, “My Mom’s dead.”

“Mine too,” she’d answered.

She’d missed the first bus, sitting next to him in the little shelter while he cried then she’d taken the day of the funeral off.  Sat in the back, didn’t talk to him but she could see the hint of a smile on his face when noticed her there.

She’d wondered if he had anywhere to stay but then she knew he had money.

Jaehee cracks the whipped cream can and covers the waffles, pulls at the drawers of Sundae toppings for sprinkles and candies and all the things she knows he likes.  Smiles as Blue hair and his friend wave and nod on their way out.  

She thinks maybe when she’d turned back around she’d caught sight of them talking to Saeyoung but that was none of her business.  Saeyoung Choi was a personable guy.

“Whipped Cream Everest,” he chuckles. “My compliments to the chef.”

She sets his drink in front of him and smiles.  Practiced and soft and easier for him.

It’s a normal night.  A few late-night coffee that come with the events at the city center.  Concerts ending or the library closing.  Nothing stands out as she pours too strong cups of coffee and hands out pieces of pie and stale donuts.  The kitchen shuts down 15 minutes before close and Jaehee does another round, tops up coffee cups and waves to Saeyoung as he sticks his cash in an envelope and seals it.

She takes a little longer tonight.  The Blue hair had left a big tip and she double checks to make sure she rang up his bill properly.  Double counts everything and puts the drop for the morning in the safe.  She almost falls asleep in the creaky office chair.  It happens sometimes, and she curses under her breath as she slips off her nonslip shoes for sneakers and tosses her apron over the back of a chair. 

She’d have to rush to catch the bus.

She doesn’t see him at first.  He’s not leaning against the lamp post and she figures he must have had to go.  No big deal, it wasn’t like she would miss him while she waited for her bus.

“Hey,” a voice croaks and then coughs and Jaehee jumps, holds her purse a little tighter and lets her keys set a little firmer between her fingers. “Just me Jaehee, give me a hand?”

Saeyoung’s on the ground, sitting under the big window that he spends most of his time gazing out of.  Even in the shadows she can see his face swelling, his cheek purple and bruising.  He’s curled in on himself but when she reaches to help him up the hand that takes hers is strong.

“C-can I lean on you?” he wheezes.

“Of course.”

“You’re very serious when you’re not on the clock,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, he’s heavier than she expected, firmer pressed against her and she’s glad that even though she can’t afford her club fees anymore she’s at least maintained her judo training.

“It’s fine, I like it.” They stand there awkward and quiet for a moment.  “Can you drive?”

“I have my lisence,” she says.

He chuckles, punctuated by a cough and a whine. “Yeah but can you drive?”

She sighs. “If this is a ploy to get me into your car-”

“No no, Jaehee I just, could you drive me home?” He groans, trying to shift his weight off her and stumbling, “I don’t know how bad this is, I don’t think, I promise nothing funny.”

She sighs. Shifts her weight to better keep from dropping him.  “I think I should call an ambulance.”

“Absolutely not,” he says jerking away and stumbling again.

“Then I should call someone to take you to a doctor.”

“Jaehee please, just, please take me home.  I need to figure out how bad this is before I call anyone.”

Jaehee groans. “Fine,” it’s clipped.  Short and frustrated just like her but he still sighs relieved.

She trips when he points, “Over there, the red one.”

“I, uh-”

“You can drive stick right?” He chuckles.

She swallows and nods.  It’s been years, too many of them, since she’d driven a car and never anything like that.  The last one being older than her, a tiny thing made of parts of other cars.   _ Armor made from it’s enemies _ a boy she’d dated had once said. “Yeah,” she says quietly.  

She helps him into the passenger side, notices his mangled hand for the first time and for the first time his easy smile falters as he pulls it inside his black and yellow sweater.  She doesn’t say anything just buckles his seatbelt for him and helps him recline the seat.

She doesn’t ask him what happened and he doesn’t try to tell her.  Just gives her directions, like she hasn’t noticed the change in his breathing.  _ Left here _ , a wheeze and a muffled cough.  He cradles his broken hand, pretends like he’s not resisting the urge to curl onto his side.  _ Right at the lights _ , a cough and a whimper.

The adrenalines worn off.

“Parking garage,” he grunts.

“How are you even going to get to your apartment?” She scoffs.

“You’re gonna help me, of course.”

She doesn’t understand how he can manage to look cocky after taking a beating.

She gets him to the elevator and he hands her a keycard.   _ Maybe he does sell drugs _ , she thinks,  _ maybe he’s with the mafia _ but  _ it’s none of your business _ .  His apartment is on the top floor, a penthouse.  Garishly decorated, too bright for her taste, too big.  She helps him to the sofa, big and red and so plush she thinks it might swallow him whole.  

As soon as he’s let her go she turns to leave.

“Where are you going?” He almost sounds scared.  Almost sounds small.  Almost sounds like the little boy she remembers asking  _ do we have enough for a milkshake Noona? _

She should keep going, this has nothing to do with her, none of her business.  She helped him out because that’s who she is.  A heart of gold if the rumors are true.

“Home, I have to work in the morning.”

“Call in sick.”

She turns, whirls on him really, ready to give him shit.  Obviously  _ whatever  _ he did, he could afford to call in sick.  He didn’t know her, she needed those tips.  Had bills to pay, an overdraft that was getting slowly eaten away.  

She’s greeted with a pale face and a smirk like a mask and she swallows her venom, holds out her hands. “I can’t afford to Saeyoung.”

“Don’t you have vacation time?” He tries not to sound like he’s pleading.  Not practiced at faking like she is.  

“I can’t afford to live off vacation pay, and I can’t just  _ take _ vacation without notice.”  She sighs and brushes her hair out of her face.  

“What if I pay you?” He gives up any pretense of pride.

“Saeyoung,” she shifts uncomfortably.

“There’s a spare room, it’s not like- I’m not asking you to do anything, just, could you stay a few days?  You work every day you can’t tell me your boss wouldn’t kiss your ass if you made him think he was going to lose you.”

“I’m a terrible liar.”

He snorts and whimpers, “You lie everyday, I’ll pay you what you usually make, with tips if you just-” he shrugs, “just lend me a hand?”

She snorts when he waves the mangled hand at him.

“Fine.”

 


	2. She’s Considered a Bargain

Saeyoung watches her chew her lip.  Calloused hands threading through her hair, snagging on a hair tie.  She shakes it loose. Frowns the whole time.  Her resting face was disappointment and he doesn’t have to ask her why.  Life had offered her so much more and Jaehee Kang had traded opportunity for independence.

And he’d just bought it with a paycheck.

“Do you have something I can change into?” She asks.

“My room is at the end of the hall, should be something in the dresser, might be a little big.” He says, holding his breath.  Everything was starting to hurt, it was getting hard to think through it and he still had things to do.

The underlying reason he’s asked her to stay.  If he was going to finish this job on time he was going to need her hands.  The only person in his life he could rely on.  

She comes out of the hall like a runaway.  Arms full, front of his too big shirt tucked into a pair of sleep pants tied tight to keep them from falling off of her small frame.

She’s barefoot.

He watches bare feet, red and swollen from standing for god knows how long, probably all day again.  She shoves the table out of the way with her legs, lets the blanket from his bed fall on the floor.  He hears hard plastic on the finished wood of his coffee table but he doesn’t look.  

Her uniform was a skirt but somehow in borrowed pajama pants he notices the shape of her legs for the first time.

She spreads out the blanket, kneels on it and reaches for him. “Come on let me look at you.”

“On the floor?” He tries to smirk but it comes out a grimace.

“Your couch is too soft, come on.” She gestures at him impatiently. “Take your shirt off do you need help.”

Does she notice him blushing?

“M-my shirt, Noona?” If she hadn’t noticed it before she certainly would now.  For all the blood pooling in bruises it’s a wonder his face could feel so hot.

At least she blushes too.

“I don’t know who you’ve made angry and I don’t care but if you won't go to a doctor at least let me see what I can do.” She grumbles, tugs at his hoodie. 

He lets her pull it off his shoulders, let’s her help him with his shirt.  She sucks in a breath with a hiss. 

“What did you do?”  She mumbles the words, more to herself than to him.

“I didn’t-” he starts.

“It’s not on my business,” she finishes.

“Hey, it kind of is since you’re helping me out.” He smiles weakly. Let’s her gently lay him down against the blanket. “Do you even know what you’re looking at?”

“A stupid kid who’s lucky he didn’t get his head kicked in,” she snorts.

“Touche.” He chuckles and then whimpers. “It’s wasn’t what you think.  I have, uh Saeran’s  _ friends _ ?  They don’t bother me.  I ignore them they ignore me.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to explain,” she says, ignoring the way he yelps when she presses on his ribs.

“It was just some kids, I guess I’m probably lucky it took so long for someone to jump me, counting that much cash in public.”

“It is a pretty stupid thing to do,” she agrees, cold rough hands moving from his ribs to his belly.  She seems content that his reaction to the pressure she puts on him is significantly less.  “You’ve got some cracked ribs, let me see your hand.”

He holds his busted hand out, the smaller boy had stomped on it.  Angry his friend had gotten in more kicks than him. “How bad is it doc?  Will I ever play piano again.”

“You don’t know how to play piano, Saeyoung,” she says humorless.

“No fun,” he whines.

“Can you move your fingers at all?”

He manages to straighten out his pinky and index finger, his middle finger moves a little, and his ring doesn’t.  Jaehee feels around them pressing and tugging and watching his face. 

“I think they’re just sprained but I’m not a doctor Saeyoung, you’re lucky I’m used to treating Judo injuries.”

“My Hero,” he fake swoons as she tugs at the first aid kit he’s kept stashed under his bathroom sink.  Left untouched since his brother isn’t here, coming home from getting in his own fights.

A warm cloth in one hand and antiseptic ointment in the other she treats his wounds while he makes weak jokes. Satisfied whenever he sees the smallest of smiles grace her chapped lips.  She goes back to his fingers, frowning as she feels around the last two uncooperative digits. 

“They’re broken,” she frowns.

“I thought-”

“I changed my mind.  This is going to hurt,” she she says glancing around. “I’m going to count to three.”

“I can count way higher than that,” he chuckles.

She ignores him.  “One.”

“How many times have you done this before?”

“Two,” she ignores him.

“Only t-Shit,  _ fuck _ ,” he shouts, he tries to pull his hand away but she holds it firm as he cycles through all the curses he’s ever heard anyone utter. “You said on  _ three _ ,” he growls.

“I lied, works better if you don’t expect it,” she smiles and he decides that he could handle her being a sadist if he could see that smile a little more often.

She binds the fingers together with the stub of a pencil she kept behind her ear and bandages from his first aid kit.  Helps him back onto the soft sofa.  He watches her fold the blanket and gather everything up before she disappears down the hallway.  He listens to her shuffle around out of sight.  The bathroom he thinks and then she comes back into view.

“Edvil?” Simple and to the point, he can see exhaustion playing across her features.

He shakes his head.

“Anti Inflammatories?  Muscle relaxers?  Anything?” She demands.

He shakes his head, “Sorry I don’t take anything, do you have a headache?”

“I  _ always _ have a headache,” she mutters. So you’re just going to suffer through this.”

He shrugs and cringes. “I never take anything, it’s fine.”

She groans, takes a step forward and then stops.  He watches her hands fist in his borrowed pants. “I will go out in the morning and pick up some things you’ll need.”

He watches her face, the slide of the mask she uses to placate customers as she disappears down the hall and returns with a small bag in her hand.  He watches her open cupboards in his kitchen and the tilt of her head when she pulls out a cup with a cartoon character, he can imagine her frown in disapproval.  She’s shaking her head, a gentle smile on her face as she sits beside him.

“It’s, uh, well it’s Medol,” she frowns. “It’s all I have.”

“It’s fine,” he shakes his head. “I don’t take anything I don-”

“I get it,” she says softly, not looking at him.  She pushes the glass of water into his good hand and holds out the small white pill. “It’s not, it won’t do anything but dull the pain.  Don’t suffer because you don’t want to be your mother.”

He swallows.  Of course she’d figured him out, she was always so smart, always so good at reading him.  Even when they were young she could tell when he needed more than a milkshake.  He imagines she probably knows about his crush on her too.

“Please,” she says, her voice is small, like she’s remembering something and he realizes he knows very little about her.  Nothing but she’s being working as long as she legally could, that her parents are dead and she’s the only person who’s ever been nice to him without wanting something in return.  Nothing but she’s the only person capable of helping him right now, the only person he can trust.

So he mumbles  _ ok _ and holds out his mangled hand, takes the pill she places in it. “You’re probably tired.”

“I’m fine, what do you need?” She shakes her head.

“No I’m ok, you should go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” She asks, frowning at him.

“Just help me get my sweater back on please, the first room on the right was Saeran’s you can sleep there.”

She nods and does as he asks.  Refills his water glass and ses it on the table near him. “Do you need help getting to your own room?”

“I’ll be fine, go to sleep.”

He watches her frown, the way she rolls her shoulders and takes him in, like she’s considering arguing but doesn’t have the energy.  She makes a soft growling sound under her breath when she pushes herself off the couch and casts a lingering glance over her shoulder as she steps into the darkness of the hallway.  He can see her shake her head before the darkness swallows her.

He waits, catalogues the little pains and tries to decide how he feels that he let her talk him into taking that pill.  Such a little thing, nothing really in the scheme of things but he’s never taken anything, not even cough syrup, not after watching his mother.  Not after the glaze in his brother’s eyes.  

He knows it’s not the same. The logical part of him can reason that it was necessary but something beyond pride nags at him, whispers about weakness and genetics.  Still something about the way she’d read him the way she said  _ Don’t suffer because you don’t want to be your mother _ .  

So quick to change the subject with her catchphrase,  _ it’s not my business _ , but Jaehee Kang doesn’t miss a beat.  She files it all away.  He wonders if he offered would she let him pay her way, to put her brain to better use than Diner slang and regular’s orders.  He could do it. He had nothing but time and his work and what else was he going to spend his savings on.  

His brother was learning a trade while he served his time.  Everything he owned he’d paid up for with cash or been paid with.  

He could buy her freedom and she wouldn’t owe him a thing.  Owes it to her to offer he thinks, if he makes it through this week.

When he’s certain she’s asleep he makes his way to the room across from his brother’s.  His own secret door.  The blue lights of computer monitors blink on like some mythical beast waking slowly from a long sleep as he opens the locked door.  He sits in the chair knowing this is the real test, if he really needs her here or if he’s just lonely.

Deadlines were important, his ability to cut them into thirds was his bread and butter.  It was the reason respectable rich men and criminals alike sought him out.  It was the reason he could negotiate, the reason he was worth a bidding war.  The reason he was still alive.

One hand visibly mangled from a frustrated foot, but the other- He presses his two stiff unbandaged fingers into the flesh of his injured shoulder and feels the pain as it travels down his arm, squeezes his hand into a fist and watches his fingers, sluggish and uncooperative.

He curses under his breath.  Too sluggish to do what he needs but he knows Jaehee Kang broke records with her typing speed. He knows what she went to school for and how quickly she could retain information.  Someone he could trust to do what he did under his instruction.  He has to finish this job, and he has to finish it in the next couple days.

The bonus for finishing it early was something he couldn’t refuse.

The bonus was his brother. 


	3. She used to believe in innocence until she lost it

It’s the voices that wake her up.  Not the fact that someone had obviously been in the room while she slept.  Her bag sitting at the foot of the bed like a neon sign that someone had invaded her space.  Not just the borrowed space, with borrowed clothes and borrowed beds but her own personal locked up space.  Someone had been in her home.

She slips out of the bed.  Bigger and more comfortable than anything she can remember ever owning. She sits on the edge and tugs the hair tie off her wrist and into her hair.  There were voices in the other room, there was nothing she could do about yesterday's makeup but she could at least pull messy hair from her face.

She can smell coffee when she opens the door. The voices hush with the click of the latch and Jaehee stifles a yawn as she blinks into the bright morning light.

“Sleepy head,” Saeyoung chuckles.

“What time is it?” She croaks, voice rough from her shift the day before.

She doesn’t notice the other man in the room until he’s handing her a paper cup of coffee with the Diner’s logo on the side.

“Almost noon,” he smiles.  

He’s prettier than he has any right to be.  Tall, long hair in ponytail, eyes ruby red and wolfish.  She feels suddenly self conscious with her borrowed pajamas and morning breath.

“Zen went to the diner and made excuses for you,” Saeyoung says from his seat on the couch, “I had him go to your place and get you some things, and stop at the pharmacy so you didn’t have to go anywhere today.”

“I could have done those things myself,” she frowns. “How did you even get into my apartment?”

He’s prettier when he blushes. “Oh uh, trade secret.”

“He picked the lock,” Saeyoung snorts.

Zen’s face shifts, his jaw sets and he sneers at Saeyoung. “Because you  _ asked _ me to, I don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah yeah,” Saeyoung chuckles.  “We’re all on the up and up now right?  Don’t do a lot of things.”

“Saeran was a wake up call,” Zen shrugs.  “Have you talked to him lately?”

“He’s mad at me,” Saeyoung sighs, “Not calling.”

“I’ll tell him to,” Zen smiles softly.  

“Don’t tell him-”

“Yeah yeah,” Zen interrupts. “I won’t tell him you got the shit kicked out of you, I know what he’s like.”

Jaehee watches him, the way the sunlight reflects off his white hair and pale skin; he watches her back.  Evaluating her as he pulls on a leather jacket and tucks a helmet under his arm. “Give me a call if he give you trouble,” he gives her a soft charming grin.

“Yeah Hyun, you’re pretty we get it,” Saeyoung growls as Zen winks at her on his way out the door.

She sips at her coffee and narrows her eyes on Saeyoung, “What did he tell them?  What excuse?”

“He said he was your neighbor and you collapsed from exhaustion, gave them a doctor’s note, ordering a week off,” Saeyoung smirks.

“Your forged a doctor's note?” 

“Course not,” he fakes offence, “called in a favor.  It’s barely a lie anyway.”

She shakes her head. “How do you feel this morning?”

“Like I got the shit kicked out of me,” Saeyoung snorts.

“Have you taken anything yet?”

He shakes his head and she eyes the pharmacy bag on the table.  “I uh didn’t know what to take,” he admits. 

“You’ve really never taken anything, not even for a headache?  You’ve never been sick?”  She pulls bottles out of the bag.

“Not, I mean,” she watches his good hand tug at his hair, “Saeran got sick more than me, she didn’t really- Mom you know?” He shrugs, not looking at her.  

She nods.  It’s not the same but she understands. Remembers when her father got sick.  Her mother was so distracted, not much attention left to spare for a girl with a sniffle.  It’s not the same but she knows.  “Did you eat breakfast?”

“Zen brought me a danish,” he smiles.

She sighs and sets the bag heavy on the table. “I’ll cook something.”

“No,” he says.

“It’s what I’m here for right?” She shrugs moving deeper into his kitchen.

“It’s  _ not _ ,” he insists.

“It’s fine,” she says opening the fridge.

“No,” he says firmly, standing.  Her head picks up and she looks at him.  He holds her there with his eyes. “It’s not, I can,” he wobbles slightly on his feet, “I’ll get something to eat, I promise.  I don’t, I need you for something else.”

Her jaw shifts, she screws up her mouth and she shuts the door to the refrigerator, leans against the counter and returns his stare until his shoulders sag and he sinks back into the couch. “ _ Something else _ ,” she says

“It’s not like  _ that _ ,” he groans.  “It’s, you know, I can-”  His phone alarms, a high whining voice calling  _ Wee-Oo _ , on repeat that makes her cringe.  “Shit.”

She watches him fumble with his phone for a minute then smirk at her before he answers on speaker. “Yeah so I’m not letting you up yet you gotta run an errand for me.”

“M-Mr. Choi,” she hears a small voice stammer on the other line, “I have the files you need a-and I just need to leave them with you, please let me in.”

“What’s the password?” Saeyoung chirps, eyes trained on her as she retrieves her coffee cup.

“Password?  Mr. Han didn’t, no one said there was-”

Saeyoung clucks his tongue. “I guess you’ll have to go on a mission, a great adventure, maybe you’ll meet a princess!  It’s gonna be great!”

“Mr. Choi,” the boy says nervous but firm. “Mr. Han said-”

“I bet he said I’m eccentric,” Saeyoung chuckles.

There’s a beat of silence then a sigh, “Yeah I guess.”

He sounds petulant.  She likes him already.

“I’ll make it easy, no dragons or princesses today ok Mr. Kim?”

There’s no response.  She watches Saeyoung wet his lips and wait just in case. 

“Ok, Mr. Yoosung Kim! Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to go across the street and buy me lunch for two.  The only rule is one lunch can not have fish.  Got it?”

Jaehee shakes her head, she starts to ignore him and the little show he’s putting on in favor of pulling the bottles from the bag.  It looks to her like Zen had bought one of everything and she’s reminded again that Saeyoung said he’d never taken anything, not even for a headache.  He didn’t know what to get so he had his friend get it all.

“I don-”

“You’ve got company credit don’t you Yoosungie?” Saeyoung teases.

“Y-yes,” the boy starts.

“Mr Han will understand if he wants to use my services,” he sings as he ends the call without so much as a goodbye.  The playful smile fades and he watches her at the table. “Wasn’t exactly convenient timing but useful.”

“Are you always like this?” She frowns.

“I have a reputation, besides it comes in handy.”

“It looks exhausting,” she starts twisting off caps and puncturing foil.

“Being tired is better than being dead,” he chuckles.

“I can’t see how acting foolish saves lives,” she counts pills in her palm.

“Maybe not, you know, out where you are,” he agrees, “but in my line of work?  Doing what I do, acting foolish makes me non-threatening.  Men like this guy we’re working for this week don’t fall for it, but it evens out.  He pays extra to keep me loyal. That’s why I need you.”

“You need me?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not that I can’t do it myself but Mr. Trustfund made me an offer and I just, I need you if I wanna finish before it expires.”

She watches him chew on his lip. “Saeyoung is this illegal.”

He smirks, “Definitely, probably,” he nods.

She sighs. “Saeyoung.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, you won’t get caught and if you do I’ll take the blame, I promise.”

Her lips purse.

“I’ll pay you more, make it worth your while.”

“I don’t-”

“I’ll pay your tuition,” he blurts out.

“What?”

“I’ll pay for you to go back to school,” he says, his voice quieting.”

“You can’t-”

“Afford it?” He snorts. “I can.  You lost your scholarship and dropped out right?”

Her cheeks pink and she grinds her teeth together as the ringer on his phone alarms again.

He doesn’t answer it he just frowns at her for a minute. “You need to get dressed,” he says suddenly and she wants to argue, to steer the conversation back around to his offer but there’s something behind his eyes when he says it that has her biting her tongue and moving towards the room.

She has to wonder what exactly Saeyoung had told the man named Zen as she sifts through the clothing in the bag.  Wants to ask him why she needed to be dressed to meet this Yoosung Kim kid, or how she should dress.  But she can hear him chuckling and sing-songing from the other side of her door.  She pulls on a pair of dark skinny jeans and blouse she hadn’t worn since she’d interviewed for an internship before she dropped out.  She hears the knock at the door as she’s staring into the mirror combing her hair straight.

“All business,” Saeyoung smirks, leaning against the counter with his injured hand in his pocket.

“I assume that’s what you wanted,” she says softly walking towards the door.

He shrugs and looks smug as she opens the door. “Mr. Kim,” she nods stepping out of the way as the frazzled boy stumbles into the apartment.

“I, uh,  _ Hello _ ? Mr, uh Miss? Choi?” He stammers.

Jaehee snorts and Saeyoung laughs softly from the kitchen. “Mr. Choi is just over there, you’ll be dealing with me today.”

“I uh, Mr. Han sent me to talk to Mr. Choi?  Mr. Luciel Choi,” he clarifies. “I’m not really-”

“Please,” She says coolly, her face passive, “I will take the files you’ve brought.”

“And I’ll take the lunches,” Saeyoung chirps.  The boy jumps, a few files spilling out of the folder he has trapped beneath one arm.

Jaehee moves to gather them but out of the corner of her eye she catches Saeyoung shake his head, almost imperceptibly.  So she stands, cold and statuesque as the ruffled boy sighs and pouts and drops his shoulders defeated.  Saeyoung pulls the takeout bag from his hands and the boy hands her the folder before he crouches down to pick up the spilled files.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Han is very particular and he, I mean it’s only my first week and he only hired me because he knows my cousin and I’m just-”

“Is this everything,” Jaehee cuts him him off and watches his mouth snap shut.  His purple eyes wet with nervous tears as he hands her the last of the papers.

He nods. “Uh huh.”

Could that have been her, she wonders.  If she’d stayed with her family, maintained the scholarship requirements, could she have been some stuttering intern begging to keep her job.  Terrified of the wrath of rich men?  Could that be her if she let Saeyoung pay for her to go back to school?  Did she even want that anymore?

“Thank you Mr. Kim.  Please inform Mr. Han that you have passed the first tier of Mr. Choi’s evaluation.  We will be in contact if we require anything further from him or you.”

“F-from me?” he stammers, brushing brown hair out of his face.

“Of course, Mr. Choi has already begun to vett you, it would be a waste if he were to have to begin again with someone else.”

“I-oh, thank you,” he nods, bowing slightly, cheeks pink as she opens the door for him.  

Jaehee has barely shut the door before Saeyoung starts to laugh.

“That poor boy,” she sighs.

Saeyoung only laughs louder and shoves a styrofoam container towards her. “Poor boy,” he chuckles, “you were  _ terrifying,  _ Noona.”

She runs her hands through her hair and frowns. “I’m going to change.”

She pretends she doesn’t see him blushing and hopes he doesn’t notice her doing the same.  She switches out the blouse for a tshirt and tugs her hair back into a ponytail.  Saeyoung is shoveling noodles into his mouth when she makes her way back to the kitchen.  Hovering over the center island and watching her carefully.  

She scoops up the four pills she’d counted out while he’d talked to the boy on the phone and sets them on the counter in front of him before opening the second container. “So what are we doing then?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he smirks at her over the flapping styrofoam lid.

She shakes her head.

“Lunch.”


End file.
